TheBanyanTree: Kessie

[Sachet]

She was a 7 week old chocolate-colored fluff ball of affection that 
attached herself to me with determination and utter devotion. Where I 
went, she went and her moods reflected mine to an eerie degree. Some 
thought so anyway. I didn't. To me it was natural, because of that 
special bond that can sometimes develop between a dog and owner. I spent 
so much time playing with her on the floor, teaching her to sit, stay, 
shake, lay down and all the things you do to try and create a bond with 
a new puppy so that you have that wondrous relationship that somehow 
fills a spot in your soul.

I'd always wanted a chocolate lab. I chose the timing of looking for her 
until the kids were 6 & 9 years old so that if all went well, they 
wouldn't have to experience the loss of a beloved pet while they were 
kidlets. We went to the Humane Society and viola, there she was.

She was soon to turn 11 years old, and they are now 17 & 20, so that 
worked out pretty well all in all. They certainly enjoyed her while 
growing up, but since she had attached herself to me, they are sad 
today, but not grieving like I am.

A week ago she was romping, playing chase with me in the backyard and 
roughhousing with our other dog, Cloud. It was impossible to tell which 
one of them was 11 years and which one was 1 1/2 years old. And now this 
morning I held her head, gently rubbing between her eyes like she loved 
for me to do and telling her what a good girl she was, so that the last 
things she felt and heard were pure love.

A friend suggested that I write about her, to help with my sadness. To 
remember all the funny, goofy, or amazing moments that made her a part 
of my heart for so long. But I find that it just hurts to much right 
now. So I'll save that for another day.

I went into work for a few hours today, just to get away from the house 
and that twilight zone syndrome of thinking you see the pet you've lost 
out of the corner of your eye. Or the slam dunk feeling of harsh reality 
that hits when you go to pet them, or feed them and they're not there. I 
work with such a special group of people. Their hugs and commiseration 
were just the soothing balm I needed.

Our pets are always, always worth the inevitable and inescapable pain of 
losing them. Because the joy they bring is unique and beyond compare. 
But those first few hours, and days are hellishly hard to get through.....

....Sachet